


Room 419

by gretavanfanfic



Category: Greta Van Fleet (Band)
Genre: Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingerfucking, Hand Jobs, Sharing a Bed, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27569992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gretavanfanfic/pseuds/gretavanfanfic
Summary: You and Jake are tricked into sharing a hotel room by your friends following their wedding.
Relationships: Jake Kiszka/Reader
Kudos: 10





	Room 419

Being a maid of honor in a wedding is no small feat. While you were flattered that your best friend had asked you to stand next to her on her big day, you quickly found out that it is a demanding and expensive role, and it has left you feeling overwhelmed more than a few times over the past couple months. Therefore, when she and her then-fiancé told you that they would book your hotel room for the night of the wedding, you were more than happy to let them take that responsibility out of your hands. It would be one less thing to worry about on a sure to be hectic day.

Maybe this was your mistake, but you were fully expecting them to book you your own room. Or if not your own room, you figured they may have paired you with one of the other bridesmaids. You’re not particularly close with any of them, but you would be fine for one night.

What you were not anticipating was having to share a room with the best man.

So when the reception comes to an end and you insert your key into the card reader for room 419, ready to shower off the day and crawl into bed, you’re shocked to see that a body is already occupying the mattress. More specifically, Jake Kiszka’s body. 

His brown shoes have been kicked off near the door and he’s still clothed in his navy dress pants, but his white shirt is fully unbuttoned, exposing his tan chest as he lounges on top of the plush comforter with his phone in his hand. His head pops up when he hears you enter, and while he looks surprised at first, a smirk quickly forms on his lips. 

Now, you know Jake fairly well, but you wouldn’t say that you consider him a friend. Acquaintance is probably a better word. Your best friend and her new husband have been trying to set the two of you up for years now, and while you had gone on one date with him in the past, it never amounted to anything. He was very obviously only interested in casual sex, which he offered up multiple times on your date, and he was a bit cocky for your tastes. And while you can’t deny that you were very attracted to him and very tempted by his offer, you were looking for something more serious, so you declined his advances and the two of you never went out again. Since then, you’ve heard plenty about Jake’s various conquests with all sorts of beautiful women, and so you’re not upset with your decision to let it be a one and done sort of deal.

Still, your friends haven’t let up on their quest to get you and Jake together, claiming that your compatibility is off the charts. Every time you hang out with them and Jake is there, they make remarks about how perfect you are for each other, which you always try to brush off. Jake, however, has fun feeding into their delusion and will frequently make flirty comments to you, ranging from, “Come on, Y/N! Give the people what they want! You heard them, we’re perfect for each other!” to, “You know you want a piece of this, babe. There’s no need to fight it!” You try not to make it obvious that his little jests usually leave you a bit flustered, but he seems to always pick up on your embarrassment anyway. Sometimes it even seems like he’s…proud of the fact that he can so easily ruffle your feathers.

“Well, well, well. Y/N,” Jake says arrogantly from his spot on YOUR bed. “I’m glad to see you’re finally ready to admit that you want me. I have to say though, this is a bit unexpected.”

You give him a small, humorless laugh, but your unease is clear as you question in a somewhat shrill voice, “What are you doing in my room?”

Jake’s smirk turns into a full blown grin as he answers, “Actually, this is my room. Got the key and room number directly from the front desk. You can check if you want.” He points to the key card lying on the dresser so that you can look for yourself.

Wasting no time, you let out a small huff and march over to grab the card that’s still in its paper pocket on the wood surface. Sure enough, the number on it matches the number on yours.

Annoyed at the fact that you now have to pay the front desk a visit before you can crawl into YOUR bed, you frown at Jake’s smug face and stomp out the door and onto the elevator to return to the lobby.

After waiting in line for 10 minutes behind a couple who was checking in, you approach the desk at last and are greeted by a friendly looking young woman who asks, “Good evening, how can I help you?” 

Plastering a fake smile on your face, you reply, “Hi, I think I was given the wrong room number. When I went inside just now, there was already someone in there.” 

The woman immediately apologizes. “I’m so sorry about that ma’am. Let’s try to get that straightened out. What’s your name?”

You give her your information and watch as she types it on the keyboard, then clicks around on their computer system.

“Okay, I see we have you in room 419. Is that what you were told before?” she inquires.

“Yes,” you respond. “It looks like someone must have made a mistake with the other guest then, because he is insisting to me that 419 is his room.”

She clicks around some more and then states, “Well it looks like your reservation is for two adults. You and a Mr. Jacob Kiszka. We have a note here saying that you would be checking in separately.”

It’s at this moment that your blood begins to boil. In your head, you curse your best friend and her new husband, knowing that they are to blame for your current predicament. Even though they had pulled a few tricks in the past to try to get you and Jake together, you genuinely never would have expected them to go this far to couple you up. 

It’s not that you have any particularly negative feelings toward Jake. More than anything, you’re upset that your friends have so blatantly disregarded your multiple refusals to go out with him. You know that they fully believe that they have your best interest in mind, but it still bothers you that they think they know what you need better than you do.

It would be one thing if the room had two beds, but, of course, they purposefully booked one that only has a single king-sized bed. You feel your skin itching with nervousness at just the thought of sharing a bed with a flirt like Jake.

Exasperated, you tell the front desk worker, “That’s not going to work for me. Can you get me booked in another room, please?”

The pleasant woman moves the mouse around some more, and then a frown appears on her face. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, we don’t have any more rooms available tonight. Is there anything else I can do to make yours and Mr. Kiszka’s stay with us more comfortable?”

Blowing out an aggravated breath, you give her a tight-lipped smile and sigh, “No, thank you for your help.”

You hear her wish you a good night as you walk away, defeated. _It’s one night_ , you tell yourself. _It will be fine_. 

When you re-enter room 419, Jake is exactly as you left him, lying on his back, phone in hand. Without looking up he concludes, “So they pulled a fast one on us, eh?” His voice is neutral, not giving away how he feels about the situation at all.

Dropping your bag on the table in the corner of the room, you gripe, “Ugh, yes. I really should have known better than to take them up on their offer. They’re pretty relentless, huh?”

“You’re not kidding,” he agrees. “I might be pissed if they were trying to set me up with any of the other bridesmaids, but I can tolerate you I suppose.” 

You give him a dry laugh in response and sit down to rid yourself of the uncomfortable high heels that you’ve been wearing for far too long. Your feet ache, and you release a relieved sigh when you’re free of the painful shoes. After that, you begin digging through your bag, pulling out your pajamas and toiletries and carrying them with you into the surprisingly roomy hotel bathroom.

Beginning the process of de-glamorizing yourself, you start by taking the obscene number of bobby pins out of your hair, then painstakingly run a brush through your heavily hairsprayed tresses. Next is your face, and you have to use multiple wipes to remove all of the make-up that is caked onto your skin.

It’s not until you’re fresh faced and finished brushing your teeth, ready to finally jump into the shower, that you realize that you’re not going to be able to get out of your dress on your own. The zipper is oddly placed on your back and there’s a hook and eye that’s just out of your reach. The other bridesmaids were there to help you get into it this morning, but now the only person available to assist you is Jake. Knowing what your options are, you spend a considerable amount of time attempting to get the garment off on your own, but it is to no avail.

Resigning yourself to the fact that you’re going to have to ask for his help, you trudge out of the bathroom and come to a stop next to the side of the bed that Jake has claimed. At your appearance, he peers up at you from his phone and gives you a curious look.

Spinning around so your back is to him, you request, “Can you help me get this thing off, please? I can’t reach.” For some ungodly reason, you feel the need to show him that your arms are too short to get to the fastenings, and you flail them around helplessly.

Jake chuckles at your demonstration, and then you hear the creak of the mattress springs as he rises from his spot on the bed. You weren’t actually expecting him to get up, thinking he would easily be able to do the job from his lounging position, so your bodies end up uncomfortably close when he stands behind you. You can feel the heat of his chest against your back for just a moment until you shuffle forward a bit to create some distance between the two of you.

Jake begins by sweeping your hair over your shoulder, his fingers delicately brushing the skin on the back of your neck in the process. His touch feels weirdly intimate, and it causes goosebumps to appear on your flesh where his fingertips are. You hope he doesn’t notice.

He doesn’t break the contact between your skin and his as he trails his fingers down your back to the top of the dress. When he reaches it, he takes hold of the seam, and his other hand comes up to smoothly drag the zipper down to its end, right below the band of your admittedly skimpy underwear. As he makes his way back up to the hook and eye, he allows his fingertips to glide up your spine, and you reflexively shiver. 

If you weren’t blushing before, you definitely are now. Jake deftly undoes the small hook and the dress falls open, the entirety of your back on display. You feel exposed, and your arms instinctively rise to keep the gown from revealing any more of your skin to Jake’s eyes. 

Not wanting to prolong the embarrassing moment any longer, you take a step forward with the intent of returning to the bathroom. Your movement, however, is halted by Jake quietly exclaiming, “Hey, wait!”

Turning your head to face him, you raise your eyebrows and look at him questioningly.

He closes the distance between you again, and his hand reaches up to toy with the piece of jewelry that adorns your neck. In a husky voice, he asks, “Do you want me to take this off too?”

You had forgotten all about the necklace that your friend had given you as a bridesmaid gift, but Jake was right. It was fairly elaborate and would not be comfortable to sleep in, so it would definitely need to be removed. And while you could probably navigate getting it off on your own, you still find yourself nodding at Jake to accept his offer. 

Whirling back around, you use one hand to gather up your hair and hold it in a knot at the back of your head, giving Jake easier access to the clasp. Your other hand continues to clutch the front of your gown to your chest, the thin straps not doing much to maintain your modesty. 

Jake inches even closer, and again, you feel his body heat against your back. You hate to admit it, but the proximity makes your breathing speed up significantly. With nimble fingers, he grasps the chain and swiftly undoes the clasp, catching the heavy piece of jewelry in one hand.

Dropping your hair, you spin to face him and take the necklace from his extended palm. You look up and see that the smirk from earlier is painted on his face once again. Cheeks burning, you 

mumble a shy, “thank you,” before fleeing to the bathroom.

Regretfully, your thoughts drift to Jake while you’re in the shower. Standing under the spray with your eyes closed, you can’t help but visualize his form lounging on the bed in that unbuttoned shirt and those perfectly fitted dress pants, and then that leads you to relive the moment you shared not even ten minutes ago of him helping you out of your dress. Then your imagination runs a little wild and you have to force yourself to push him out of your mind before it goes too crazy.

By the time you’re rinsing the last bits of conditioner out of your hair and turning off the water, the tiredness from the long and hectic day has totally crashed over you. You can barely keep your eyes open as you comb the knots out of your hair and pull on the loose t-shirt and short shorts that comprise your pajamas.

Deciding to forego drying your hair in favor of getting to sleep sooner, you leave your belongings scattered on the vanity and traipse out of the bathroom, rubbing your eyes tiredly. The first thing your eyes land upon once they clear is Jake’s nearly naked form, slightly bent over and rifling through a small bag, his back to you. The pieces of his suit that he was still wearing when you last saw him have been discarded and hung up in the open coat closet, and his form-fitting navy boxer briefs are now the only article of clothing left on his body.

Though you’re ashamed to admit it, you ogle his ass for a good few seconds until he abruptly stands straight up, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand. You’re sure you resemble a deer in headlights when he spins on his heel and catches sight of your wide eyes practically drilling holes into his scantily clad figure. A smug grin tugs at his lips and you quickly avert your gaze to the floor.

Not embarrassed in the least, Jake struts past you and into the bathroom that you just vacated, swinging the door closed with a loud click. A second later, you hear the faucet turn on.

Shaking yourself out of your daze, you flick on both of the bedside lamps and turn off the overhead light on the ceiling, a softer glow replacing the harsh brightness of the room. Even though you don’t appreciate his arrogance, you don’t want Jake to trip and fall on his pretty face when he exits the bathroom because the room is too dark. 

You then plug your phone into the outlet next to the bed, and, finally, pull back the covers of the side of the mattress that has not been claimed by Jake. Climbing in, you turn on your side so that you’re facing away from the middle of the bed and scoot yourself almost to the edge, moving around until you’re comfortable. While you’re mature enough that you would never make Jake sleep on the floor when the bed is perfectly large enough for both of you, you do NOT want there to be any unnecessary contact between the two of you in said bed. Hence you confining yourself to a small space as far away from Jake’s side as possible. 

Tugging the plush covers up to your chin, you allow your eyes to fall shut, and you are almost instantly overtaken by sleep. Your slumber doesn’t last long, however, because you’re awoken by the sound of the bathroom door opening and Jake padding back towards the bed. Your eyes snap open and you watch him, still clothed in only his underwear, come to your side of the bed and switch off the lamp, then walk to his own side and turn off the lamp there.

The glow of the moon is the only source of light as he lifts up the comforter and plops his nearly nude body unceremoniously between the sheets. He shifts around a bit, then exhales a loud breath when he finds a comfortable position. You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face as he turns his head to you on his pillow and says in a sickly sweet voice, “Good night, sweetheart.”

Too tired to respond, you give him a grunt of acknowledgement and close your eyes, praying you can fall asleep as quickly as you did the first time. It seems like you only listen to the rhythmic sound of Jake’s breathing for a few minutes before you slip into unconsciousness.

⏭

It’s still dark in the room when you awaken a few hours later. You’re lying on your side with your arm in an uncomfortable position, and you can feel the sensation of pins and needles traveling throughout the limb. On top of that, you are entirely too warm, an unidentified heat source attached to your back.

It only takes a few seconds for the sleepy fog in your brain to clear and for you to realize that the source of your discomfort is a body. More specifically, Jake’s body. And not only is he cuddled up against you, he also has an arm thrown over your waist and a leg slung over your thigh, holding you snugly against him. You’re not sure how you ended up like this, but you know that you need to move now. Meer acquaintances do not snuggle like this.

Without much thought, you make an attempt to slip free from his clutches and migrate back to your side of the bed. Jake’s hold on you is so tight though, that you’re hardly able to move an inch. The little bit that you are able to shift, however, has made you acutely aware of the fact that there is something rigid poking your backside, and it twitches slightly as you wriggle against it. 

At first, the discovery of Jake’s boner pressing against you has you feeling ridiculously embarrassed. You can feel your cheeks heat up and your breathing quicken, and the combination of your absolute mortification and his body heat has you sweating.

You try again, a bit more forcefully this time, to break free from Jake’s grip, but it is to no avail. Your stirring must disturb him just a little, though, because he emits a low groan from his throat, then uses the arm around your waist to pull you even closer to him. 

Quickly, your embarrassment turns to annoyance. You’re annoyed because you wouldn’t be in this predicament if you’d just taken it upon yourself to book your own hotel room. You’re annoyed because you could have asked one of the other bridesmaids to let you sleep in their room, but you decided to just bite the bullet and share with Jake for this one night instead. You’re annoyed because you made it a point to stay on your side of the bed, and you still somehow ended up in Jake’s clutches. You’re annoyed because your best friend and her new husband would have a field day if they could see you and Jake right now. But mostly, you’re annoyed because Jake’s hardness against your ass has your head swimming with thoughts that you definitely should not be thinking, and your thighs squeezing together in search of some sort of relief from the sudden rush of arousal between your legs.

It’s this overwhelming feeling of irritation that leads you to growl out, “Jake,” in an attempt to wake him.

Your efforts result in nothing. Not even a stir. He continues to snuggle you and sleep peacefully.

Raising your voice even more, you slap his arm lightly and bark, “Jake!”

Once again, he does not respond. The man sleeps like a log, apparently.

His lack of a response only fuels the aggravated fire in you, and so you turn your head towards his and shout, probably too loudly, “Jake! Let me go!”

Finally, in reaction to your yelling, Jake’s body jumps and his eyes pop open in alarm. He looks around in confusion for a second and his arm leaves your waist briefly to rub at his still partially closed eyes, but he returns it to the same spot as he questions, “Jesus, babe. Why are you yelling? Go back to sleep.” His voice is gravelly and you watch as he closes his eyes again as soon as he gets the words out.

You balk at both his nonchalance and the pet name he called you. You shouldn’t be surprised at either, but you are.

Squirming against him again, you agitatedly snap, “Are you going to let me go, or do you plan on holding me captive all night?”

From behind you, Jake hums against the back of your head and flippantly states, “I don’t know what the issue is, babe. I’m very comfortable like this.”

You’re positive that, even though he’s hardly awake, there is a smirk marring Jake’s features at your current lack of composure. The thought makes you clench your jaw in ire.

“The issue,” you start, through gritted teeth, “is that your dick is literally poking my ass. Now, let me go.”

Wordlessly, Jake flops from his side onto his back, ridding you, at last, of the arm and leg that were holding you against him. As soon as you’re free, you scramble as far as you can away from him and flip to your back as well, hoping to improve the circulation in your arm that had fallen asleep. 

“Please try your best to stay on your own side,” you request tersely. He just hums in response.

Despite being free and more comfortable now, you are unfortunately still wide awake, mind racing and incredibly (disturbingly) turned on. You stare at the ceiling for a while, trying to will away the throbbing of your clit that has only seemed to become more intense since you separated from Jake. You curse him in your head for having this effect on you. 

A few minutes pass and you decide to chance a glance at him, curious if he already fell back asleep or is lying wide awake like you. Slowly, as to not raise his suspicions, you turn your head on the pillow to look, and immediately regret doing so.

Neither you nor Jake had thought to shut the curtains before climbing into bed, and the moon is shining particularly bright tonight. Bright enough that Jake’s form is illuminated next to you, and you can clearly see that he is still hard. A sizable tent is present in the thin sheet covering him from the chest down, and he is lying with his arms stretched upward, hands cradling his head, and eyes wide open. He is taking deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm himself down. 

The sight does NOT help quell your arousal in the slightest, and you know you need Jake and his erection to vacate the premises before you combust. You know you shouldn’t say the words before they even come out of your mouth, but the suggestion falls past your lips before you can stop yourself.

“Maybe you should, like, go take care of that or something.”

Jake’s head whips toward you. The moonlight reveals raised eyebrows, but then the dreaded smirk appears. Again. You really cannot fathom how he can be so shameless and confident at a time like this. 

He takes some time to consider your recommendation, then retorts, “Actually, I was hoping maybe you would help me out…”

A noise that’s something between a strangled cackle and a sputter leaves your throat at his proposal. You give him a look as though he has lost his damn mind, and disbelievingly croak, “Excuse me?!”

Jake is undeterred. “Come on, babe,” he goads. “We both know that the sexual tension between us is off the charts.”

Astounded, you gape at him for a second. The irritation you were feeling replaced by bewilderment. You truly do not know how to reply, and so you stutter out, “I-”

“Please don’t try to deny it,” Jake cuts you off. He sits up, reaches over to flick on his bedside lamp, and turns his body to face you before going on. “I see how you look at me sometimes when you think I’m not paying attention. I see how flustered you get when I flirt with you in front of our lovely friends. And I saw how you reacted when I touched you earlier. You got goosebumps the second I laid my han-”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you interrupt, having heard enough. But Jake’s not done.

“You can’t tell me that you don’t find me attractive, Y/N.”

And he’s right. You can’t say that. Because he’s probably one of the most beautiful humans you’ve ever laid eyes on. And even though you hate feeding into him, you aren’t a liar.

“I never said that,” you resolve, and Jake’s face lights up. “I just think that us hooking up could make things messy. Like, I don’t want to feel awkward if I try to hang out with my best friend and you’re there. Because let’s face it, we see each other all the time. How weird would having a one night stand make that?”

You’re proud of yourself for being able to coherently voice your thoughts and maintain your rationality. As much as your body may want to fuck Jake in this moment, your head is well aware of the implications a meaningless hook up with him would have.

Jake, apparently, does not understand the implications though, because he is staring at you with a perplexed look on his face. “Who said it would be a one night stand?” he asks, and his tone tells you that he isn’t joking.

_What does that mean? What does this man want from me?_

You involuntarily scrunch your face, then sit up as well. “I thought that was implied,” you admit, skepticism evident. “When we went out that one time, you were definitely more interested in a casual fuck than a relationship.”

Jake laughs and shakes his head. “Y/N, that was literally years ago.”

“And? What’s changed? I’ve seen how many girls you’ve gone through since then,” you counter, not buying that Jake is suddenly ready to commit to one person.

He emits a loud sigh. “Listen,” he begins, running a hand through his mostly straight brunette hair. “I realize my past behavior may be a little…off putting. But I have to tell you, I’ve been pissed at myself for scaring you off ever since that date we went on.”

You’re dumbfounded. It never even crossed your mind that Jake may have regretted how things between the two of you turned out. He certainly never gave you any hints that he was interested in you.

You want to ask him for further clarification, but he speaks again before you’re able to.

“I can tell that you want to ask me a million and one questions, but I really don’t think we need to make it that complicated. I’ll just say this: I like you. And I think maybe we should just…see where things go. No pressure.”

The suggestion is tempting. Especially the sex aspect. Your heat is practically begging for Jake’s touch at this point, the wetness starting to become uncomfortable. But the “seeing where things go” part has you feeling apprehensive.

Does that just mean that he wants to fuck you regularly? Like a friends with benefits situation? Or does that mean that he wants to, like, take you out on dates and be exclusive? You can’t say you would be opposed to that, but he’s being so…vague.

You decide to voice your apprehension out loud. “I don’t know, Jake…” you drawl, staring at the wall behind his head. 

Your fingers fidget with the hem of your pajama shorts, a visible display of your nerves, until Jake inches closer to you and takes your hands into his own. He uses his thumbs, calloused from years of playing guitar, to run gentle circles on the backs of your hands as he pleads, “Come on, Y/N, let me make you feel good.”

And you’re ashamed that that’s all it takes for you to give into him, but not even a second passes before you’re mumbling out a quiet, “okay,” and watching a smile, a genuine one, take over his face. Then you’re gracefully (you hope) climbing into his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist. At the same time, your arms find their way around his neck and his wind around your waist, hands settling on your lower back. 

Surprisingly, the two of you don’t dive into it right away. For what feels like multiple minutes, Jake just stares up at you and you stare back, both of you breathing heavily through parted lips. The tension in the room is palpable. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest, and its pace quickens even more when you become conscious of Jake’s erection, hard and warm and dangerously close to your heat.

Unable to refrain, you look down between your bodies and see just how close your sexes are, only an inch of space and a few thin layers of material separating your most intimate area from Jake’s. And suddenly the room feels 10 degrees warmer.

Spurred on by the sight, you dig your heels into the mattress and use the leverage to drag yourself even closer to him, so that your clothed core makes contact with his covered cock. At once, your nipples harden to stiff peaks and your hips instinctually rock forward.

This motion is the straw that breaks the camel’s back for Jake. A pained groan sounds from the back of his throat and then his hands are gripping the back of your head and he’s pulling your face down so he can fervently plant his lips on yours.

All of the remaining walls you had raised to protect yourself come crumbling down in that moment, and you kiss him back with just as much enthusiasm, consequences be damned. You would never confess out loud to having thought about this moment before, but in your head you think that his kiss is even better than you imagined. 

Hands gripping his hair, you allow him to suck on your bottom lip momentarily before thrusting your tongue in his mouth. It tangles with his and you feel tingles throughout your body. But unlike the tingling sensation you had experienced in your arm earlier from lack of circulation, this tingling is actually pleasant. You sigh into his mouth.

Jake’s hands find your waist and begin to explore under your flimsy pajama shirt, all while he continues to kiss you like his life depends on it. His fingers glide up your rib cage to just below your breasts, then back down again, leaving a trail of fire on your skin. Every time he does it, you hope he’ll venture higher, but he never strays from his path. 

Wanting nothing more than for him to pay your breasts some attention, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Pulling your lips away from his, you lean back the smallest amount and swiftly yank the shirt off your body, leaving your chest exposed to his greedy eyes. You toss it haphazardly to the floor and revel at the whine that comes from Jake at the unveiling of your bare tits. You feel butterflies in your stomach as he stares at them like they’re the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

When he meets your gaze again and asks, voice strained, “Can I?” you expect to feel his hands paw at your chest upon receiving your permission. Instead, you’re taken aback by the moist heat of his mouth enveloping your nipple, the suction he applies makes you toss your head back and moan. Loudly.

He works furiously at the tiny bud, alternating between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it between his perfect lips. It feels so good that your hips begin grinding against him on their own accord, your grip on his hair holding him to your chest. You know your underwear is probably soaked by now. Hell, your pajama shorts are probably soaked too. And you should be embarrassed, but Jake is making you feel so euphoric that you simply do not care.

Jake’s hands have moved to your ass, and it’s the small pinch he gives the flesh there that makes you loosen your grip on him slightly and look down at him. He releases your nipple with a small pop and pulls your face down to his again, giving you a brief, but still deep, kiss on the lips. Then, in stark contrast, he starts to trail feather light kisses down your jaw and neck, making his way to your other breast.

The two of you make eye contact as he takes that nipple into his mouth, and your jaw falls open at both the sensation and the sultriness of his gaze. Little whimpers sound from your throat as he pays just as much attention to it as he did to the opposite side. 

When Jake’s decided that he’s had his fill of your boobs, his lips move up to your collarbone and he leaves a decent sized hickey on the skin there. You fleetingly think that you’re going to have to cover it up before the bridal party brunch in the morning, but that thought disappears when Jake’s right hand seeks out your lower abdomen and his fingers sneak past the waistband of your shorts.

Much to your chagrin, he doesn’t let them slip into your underwear, instead choosing to rub you through the damp fabric of your panties. As soon as his thumb makes contact with your clit through the material though, you’re practically melting, core clenching in delight at the pressure. You choke out a gasp and allow your eyes to fall closed.

Jake doesn’t find this acceptable though, as he uses his free hand to grab your chin and coaxes, “Hey. Look at me.”

And so you do. You stare into his eyes, pupils so dilated that they are almost entirely black, while biting your lip and grinding against his hand as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite place, a softness that almost feels like adoration, and it makes your cheeks flush. He has definitely never looked at you like this before.

In what feels like no time at all, you’re dangerously close to your peak. Only a few more strokes of his thumb and you know you’ll be seeing stars. 

Then, right when you’re about to explode, Jake’s touch disappears. And while it may be dramatic, you really feel like you could cry from him ruining what was sure to be an amazing orgasm.

You’re about to voice your dissatisfaction, but Jake promptly removes his hand from your shorts and gives you a gentle smack on the ass.

“Lay down,” he demands raspily, patting the unoccupied area of the mattress to his side.

In a rush to have him touch you again, you do as he says and remove yourself from his lap, settling against the fluffy white pillows. You almost allow your hand to fall between your legs and pick up where he left off, but you refrain. 

Your eyes follow Jake as he lazily rises from the bed and saunters over to his bag, combing through it until he locates his wallet and produces a foil packet. Before he joins you back on the bed, he shoves his tight boxer briefs down his legs, kicking them to the side once they’re low enough. His erection springs free from its confines, and your eyes immediately lock onto it. From where you’re lying, you can see the pre-cum leaking from the tip, and your mind starts to feel hazy with desire.

You watch in awe as he circles his hand around his cock and gives it a few lazy strokes while he makes his way back to you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. The sight is downright obscene, and so is the noise you make in response.

When he crawls back onto the bed, he settles himself between your legs, and, without pausing, reaches for the waistband of your shorts. Looking to your face for permission, you give him a small nod and then he’s pulling both your shorts and your panties down your thighs and past your calves until they lie forgotten at the end of the bed.

Still on his knees, Jake inspects your nude body head to toe, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. He moves to stroke himself again, but you sit up a bit and reach for him instead, rubbing your palm from the tip of his dick to the base, shivering at the groan he releases from his throat.

He allows you to continue for a few more strokes, clearly enjoying himself, but then he’s batting your hand away, whispering “Not gonna last if you keep that up,” and slithering over your body, trapping your lips in a kiss and taking your breath away. 

You’re so caught up in the kiss that it takes you by surprise when his fingers find their way between your legs and he plunges two of them inside of you, alternating between pumping in and out and curling them so that they hit that one magical spot that makes your toes curl. He keeps his thumb busy on your clit, and his actions have you panting into the kiss, little whimpers passing from your mouth to his.

In no time at all, those whimpers turn into full blown moans, and you unintentionally break the kiss as you writhe against him. Taking the opportunity to kiss a path to your ear, Jake playfully bites at your lobe, then whispers, “Shit, you’re fucking drenched. So wet for my fingers. I can’t wait to fuck you.”

By now, you’re desperate for him, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you, and so you scratch your nails lightly down his back and breathe, “Then do it. God, _please._ ”

Jake doesn’t need any further prompting. Abruptly, he pulls back and reaches for the condom, tearing open the foil and rolling it on his perfectly sized (in your mind, at least) dick as you observe with hooded eyes.

Draping his body over yours, Jake encourages you to part your legs wider, and extends a hand to grip his cock. Teasing you, he rubs the head of his penis over your clit a few times, causing you to hiss. You can tell he wants to shoot you that infuriatingly sexy smirk, but the pleasure of the contact between you has his jaw hanging open instead.

When he does push into you, at last, you both breathe a sigh of relief. His eyes lock on yours as he finds a rhythm, slow and deep at first but gradually increasing in speed and pressure. There’s an undeniable fire between you as he thrusts his hips into yours, filling you and making you moan. 

The tender look in his eyes from earlier has returned, and you can’t help but melt into a puddle of pleasure and affection when he grunts out, “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been thinking about this for so long.”

He kisses you again, tongue seeking out yours and battling with it, somehow heightening your senses even more. This doesn’t feel like just a kiss though, it feels like Jake is using his mouth to convey exactly how much he likes you, and you’re eagerly responding.

As he continues pumping into you, your hands land on his shoulders, squeezing every time he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside of you. One especially hard thrust has you clenching around him, and Jake buries his face into your neck, groaning deeply. You can tell he’s close because his movements start to become a bit erratic, and thinking about Jake coming has you close to your climax too. 

And it’s like Jake can read your mind, because as soon as you start feeling like you need just a little bit more to push you over the edge, he uses his arm to hook your right leg and raise it up, changing the angle in a delicious way. That, in combination with his thumb finding your clit and applying some much needed pressure, has you crying out his name, your orgasm shuddering through you in waves.

He’s not far behind you, giving a few more sloppy thrusts before his face is overtaken by pleasure and he’s cursing, collapsing on top of you.

The two of you lie like that for a moment and catch your breath, his weight fully on top of you and his head resting on your chest, and it’s scary how much you enjoy it. How right it feels. When you do part ways momentarily so that you both can clean up, you feel a strange pang in your heart that dissipates as soon as you’re back in bed and in his arms. 

And while a part of you wants to check in with Jake, see how he felt about what you just did, ask more questions about his current stance on relationships, you decide to let it go for the time being and just enjoy the moment. As you cuddle into him and fall back asleep for the few short hours you have left in this hotel room, you think to yourself that, while you’re not thrilled about having to admit to your best friend and her new husband that they were right, you’re more than just a little excited to “see where things go” with Jake.


End file.
